Just noticed that I last blogged over a month ago. I'm really quite the negligent blogger, aren't I?
So what's new?
Well, today would have been my FIL's 62nd birthday. It's very hard for M - not surprisingly - I guess this whole first year will be the hardest, as you hit all the firsts. The first Christmas without him, the first New Years, the first birthday that he will no longer get a year older on. And, eventually, the first anniversary of the day he died. It is a tough time but I know it will get better. It is so lovely to see that Teddy still remembers his Grandad; although I know that in time his memory will fade - after all, he was only 1 1/2 years old when my FIL died.
Baby Boy will have my FIL's first name as his third name (I guess that's not really a secret so I can write about it here). I know M really wanted it to be his first name, but apart from the fact that I don't overly like the name; I'm also against the concept of naming babies after people (fathers, grandparents etc). I think each child has a right to their own, unique name; one that is not burdened with expectations or will lead to them being a "XX Junior" or "Little XX" all their lives. Anyway, I think having his name as baby's third name still honours his memory and has his name live on. I think this was particularly important for M as we never got to tell his dad I was pregnant; and M struggled with that for a long time after his father's death. I do believe that my FIL knows about this baby, wherever he is now; but I guess that's a matter of belief and different for everyone.
So my MIL has mentioned previously that she would really like this baby to be born today. Yeah, of course she would... apart from the fact that it's not going to happen, it still made me a bit cross as a) I'm not even full term today - why would you wish for a premature birth? and b) it's the same thing as naming-after-someone - I don't want him to be burdened with any expectations, or have his special day marred by people constantly referring to his dead grandfather and being sad on the day.
Anyway, I don't want to be too harsh on my MIL - she has gotten a lot better recently; although I'm still apprehensive about when I go into labour / the time postpartum.
The plan is that MIL will look after Teddy when we go into hospital. So far, so good. I used to be worried that she would have one of her funny moods and fall out with us just then and Teddy wouldn't have anywhere to go to; but as I mentioned she has become a lot more evenly tempered recently (and I did ask some friends of mine to be our back-up!). Now I'm more worried about when we get back home - her "help" last time did nothing but aggravate me, and left me wishing she would go already... It's a tough one, because I know I will need help. But I also know that my MIL won't be able to give me the help I need; and I don't want to have to deal with her on top of everything else that will be going on. Some of my mummy friends have already said they'd be happy to help out with Teddy, or just generally, so maybe it will all work out fine. I do wish though I could get my mother or my sister over. It's not possible as we don't have anywhere for them to stay, but it would be such a relief... oh well, you can't have everything.
And some good news, I've got nearly everything ready for baby's arrival! Last weekend I washed all the covers for the moses basket, car seat, carrycot, bouncy chair and playgym, and reassembled everything so it's all ready and waiting now. I wrote my birth plan and bought some little bits I need for my hospital bag (travel sized toiletries). I've yet to pack the bag though... anyway, it made me feel really organised and prepared and even though I know it will be a good few weeks yet, it does relax me a lot to have things ready.
As a positive side effect (and I hadn't thought about that before) it also makes if much more real for Teddy. He knows that the moses basket in our bedroom is the baby's bed, and the bouncy chair is the baby's seat, etc. He is very fascinated by them (especially by the "vibrate" button on the bouncy chair!) and does sometimes ask could he go in. But he knows now that he is too big, and puts his favourite toy Doggy in instead :-)
I'm getting more and more excited about meeting baby boy now. Reading the Hypnobirthing book, and listening to the CD, certainly helps; and I feel a lot more confident and assertive this time seeing as I've already been through it and have learned from my mistakes, as it were. My next consultant appointment will be interesting - I will try and convince them that they have in fact got my due date wrong and that I'm willing to go for however long it takes baby to be ready. I'm sure they won't like this, but tough!
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Saturday, 26 March 2011
Spring
Re-reading my last post just made me realise how things have changed over the last ten years or so. You see, I used to dread spring.
It was this whole nature awakening, everything springing into life thing - it filled me with infinite sadness to see so much life around me, when I felt so dead and so empty inside. I was much more comfortable with autumn and winter; with decay and frozen darkness. I remember feeling surprised when I read that the suicide rate is highest in autumn - surely it should be spring? This is how it made me feel anyway; nature showing me what should be, which was such a stark contrast to how I was.
Of course, it wasn't until years later that I realised; or shall we say acknowledged, that I had a problem. No, make that A Problem with capital letters. While in my teenage years all those feelings could be passed off as teenage moodiness; and I didn't actually stick out that much, dressed in black and with my "the end is nigh" attitude as that seemed to have been quite fashionable at the time. When I was at Uni though I noticed I was different. None of the other girls had to cover their arms up with long sleeves, even in summer. No one else had panic attacks at the thought of going to the library. It was this, eventually, that made me see The Problem. While at first I was an excellent student and would get good grades, my inability to visit the library meant I was lacking sources of information (this was before the internet became omnipresent - how old am I??), and my coursework became more and more shoddy. I couldn't see a way around it though - entering the library would mean that people might look at me; and think that I didn't belong there. At this point I was already avoiding lots of shops and supermarkets for that same reasons, but because I still had places that were "safe" to go to I didn't feel the impact so much. This was different. So when one day, I saw a little sticker in the loos, saying "psychological help for students, by students" I thought I'd give it a try. Of course I was really scared of going but managed to suppress that by feeling superior - after all, those were psychology students; practically hippies! And how silly they looked with their corduroy trousers, long hair and John Lennon glasses! And I did smirk when I walked into the room and saw the box of Kleenex on the table - so stereotypical!
Well, 5 minutes later and I sat there sobbing my heart out, the Kleenex box half empty. The nice hippy bloke said that unfortunately he couldn't help me; that he thought I needed professional help, and he gave me the number of a Dr he knew at the local loony bin. I was horrified. Ok, so I might have A Problem, but surely I wouldn't need to see a loon doctor?
But alas, things didn't get better on their own, so at some point I made the call. Got an appointment. Saw the Dr, who I took an immediate dislike to. Kept going anyway. Saw another Dr there, who prescribed me anti-depressants. Little did I know that I'd be on those bloody things for the next three years. After half a year, Dr #1 suggested I'd be hospitalised, as she felt we weren't getting anywhere and I needed some time out to intensely focus on my Problem and get care and therapy 24/7. I was stunned by this, and of course said no. How could I? This would mean tearing down the facade I so desperately held up - of being "normal". I hadn't told anyone but my best friend that I was, er, seeing someone. But a long spell in a hospital, a few hours drive from home, would mean I'd have to tell everyone - my parents, my friends, my colleagues... I didn't think I could do it. But I did. I still remember the phone call to my Dad. It was July, they were on holiday, and I called him, already crying before he answered the phone. I was so afraid of his reaction. I knew I would disappoint him so much, I hated being such a failure. Thankfully though he was ok -not at all what I'd feared - so I guess that gave me the strength to go ahead with it. My mother was a different matter, of course, and she would refer to my stint in the hospital as either "my luxury spa break" as clearly there was nothing wrong with me and I was making it up; or she would say "I hope you'll stay in that loony bin; you're mad, you ought to be locked up!". Needless to say she never once visited me there, or called.
Phew. This isn't something I have talked about much at all, let alone recently. In fact I only talk about it if I have to. Of course, that means I had to tell the midwife at my booking in appointment, when they ask about your medical history - "Any mental illnesses?". So now I've got these big flashing reminders in my notes: "History of depression". "Self-Injuring Behaviour". "Attempted Suicide". Yes, it looks good, that does.
Although I'm pleased to say that I don't mind it much these days. I have come to peace with myself. I know that I still sometimes react irrationally; especially if someone or something triggers the old fears. But all those years of therapy have given me the tools to deal with it; and not only that, they have improved my skills of dealing with people and difficult situations in general. I have overcome my Problem, and it has made me a stronger person.
The one thing I worry about slightly is that some day, I'm going to have to tell my boys. Of course that will take another ten years or so! But one day they will notice all those silvery lines that cover my wrists and entire forearms, and they will want to know what happened. I hope that they won't judge me.
It was this whole nature awakening, everything springing into life thing - it filled me with infinite sadness to see so much life around me, when I felt so dead and so empty inside. I was much more comfortable with autumn and winter; with decay and frozen darkness. I remember feeling surprised when I read that the suicide rate is highest in autumn - surely it should be spring? This is how it made me feel anyway; nature showing me what should be, which was such a stark contrast to how I was.
Of course, it wasn't until years later that I realised; or shall we say acknowledged, that I had a problem. No, make that A Problem with capital letters. While in my teenage years all those feelings could be passed off as teenage moodiness; and I didn't actually stick out that much, dressed in black and with my "the end is nigh" attitude as that seemed to have been quite fashionable at the time. When I was at Uni though I noticed I was different. None of the other girls had to cover their arms up with long sleeves, even in summer. No one else had panic attacks at the thought of going to the library. It was this, eventually, that made me see The Problem. While at first I was an excellent student and would get good grades, my inability to visit the library meant I was lacking sources of information (this was before the internet became omnipresent - how old am I??), and my coursework became more and more shoddy. I couldn't see a way around it though - entering the library would mean that people might look at me; and think that I didn't belong there. At this point I was already avoiding lots of shops and supermarkets for that same reasons, but because I still had places that were "safe" to go to I didn't feel the impact so much. This was different. So when one day, I saw a little sticker in the loos, saying "psychological help for students, by students" I thought I'd give it a try. Of course I was really scared of going but managed to suppress that by feeling superior - after all, those were psychology students; practically hippies! And how silly they looked with their corduroy trousers, long hair and John Lennon glasses! And I did smirk when I walked into the room and saw the box of Kleenex on the table - so stereotypical!
Well, 5 minutes later and I sat there sobbing my heart out, the Kleenex box half empty. The nice hippy bloke said that unfortunately he couldn't help me; that he thought I needed professional help, and he gave me the number of a Dr he knew at the local loony bin. I was horrified. Ok, so I might have A Problem, but surely I wouldn't need to see a loon doctor?
But alas, things didn't get better on their own, so at some point I made the call. Got an appointment. Saw the Dr, who I took an immediate dislike to. Kept going anyway. Saw another Dr there, who prescribed me anti-depressants. Little did I know that I'd be on those bloody things for the next three years. After half a year, Dr #1 suggested I'd be hospitalised, as she felt we weren't getting anywhere and I needed some time out to intensely focus on my Problem and get care and therapy 24/7. I was stunned by this, and of course said no. How could I? This would mean tearing down the facade I so desperately held up - of being "normal". I hadn't told anyone but my best friend that I was, er, seeing someone. But a long spell in a hospital, a few hours drive from home, would mean I'd have to tell everyone - my parents, my friends, my colleagues... I didn't think I could do it. But I did. I still remember the phone call to my Dad. It was July, they were on holiday, and I called him, already crying before he answered the phone. I was so afraid of his reaction. I knew I would disappoint him so much, I hated being such a failure. Thankfully though he was ok -not at all what I'd feared - so I guess that gave me the strength to go ahead with it. My mother was a different matter, of course, and she would refer to my stint in the hospital as either "my luxury spa break" as clearly there was nothing wrong with me and I was making it up; or she would say "I hope you'll stay in that loony bin; you're mad, you ought to be locked up!". Needless to say she never once visited me there, or called.
Phew. This isn't something I have talked about much at all, let alone recently. In fact I only talk about it if I have to. Of course, that means I had to tell the midwife at my booking in appointment, when they ask about your medical history - "Any mental illnesses?". So now I've got these big flashing reminders in my notes: "History of depression". "Self-Injuring Behaviour". "Attempted Suicide". Yes, it looks good, that does.
Although I'm pleased to say that I don't mind it much these days. I have come to peace with myself. I know that I still sometimes react irrationally; especially if someone or something triggers the old fears. But all those years of therapy have given me the tools to deal with it; and not only that, they have improved my skills of dealing with people and difficult situations in general. I have overcome my Problem, and it has made me a stronger person.
The one thing I worry about slightly is that some day, I'm going to have to tell my boys. Of course that will take another ten years or so! But one day they will notice all those silvery lines that cover my wrists and entire forearms, and they will want to know what happened. I hope that they won't judge me.
Wednesday, 16 March 2011
Wordy Wednesday
It seems that for many bloggers, today is 'Wordless Wednesday'. I on the other hand have just found some time to blog again!
So far, March seems to be a great month full of good news. My friend Emmy has had her long awaited baby, so has my EC friend Andrea - 12 weeks early, but her baby girl is doing extremely well! My best friend IRL has finally gotten her BFP, after half a year of trying and becoming increasingly frustrated. And to top it off, my BIL proposed to his girlfriend! I'm so very pleased and happy for every one of those people. March seems to brighten everything up a bit - the weather has also started to warm up and daffodils are blooming everywhere; beautiful yellow dots that spread spring feeling on roadsides, in gardens and parks.
M and I had a great date night; and last weekend I had a lovely day at a luxury spa- our Christmas do at work, a little belated! Furthermore, M and I have bought a new bookshelf and tidied up the living room; and a new wardrobe for the boys' room (and tidied that up a bit as well!). So things are pretty much in place for when baby boy arrives, which of course makes me feel good too!
M is about to start a new work project with his friend which they've got high hopes for. I'm still a bit sceptical ( but then I'm rather over cautious anyway) but if this really takes off it will be fantastic in terms of (fiscal) rewards; and I know it would make M so much happier as it'd mean he could spend less time dealing with annoying clients...
All in all, there's a very positive vibe in the air! Now this just needs to continue, ha ha.
Baby boy is doing well too, he's bouncing around like crazy most days which is very reassuring. I passed the yucky diabetes test so I can continue cramming my face with chocolate at every opportunity (more good news!). Now that we have decided on a name, I am really looking forward to meeting him! Hard to believe I'm nearly 8 months now... Although I do expect the worst for the weeks immediately following birth, I somehow know I will cope better this time... After all, I've already done it once and survived!
So far, March seems to be a great month full of good news. My friend Emmy has had her long awaited baby, so has my EC friend Andrea - 12 weeks early, but her baby girl is doing extremely well! My best friend IRL has finally gotten her BFP, after half a year of trying and becoming increasingly frustrated. And to top it off, my BIL proposed to his girlfriend! I'm so very pleased and happy for every one of those people. March seems to brighten everything up a bit - the weather has also started to warm up and daffodils are blooming everywhere; beautiful yellow dots that spread spring feeling on roadsides, in gardens and parks.
M and I had a great date night; and last weekend I had a lovely day at a luxury spa- our Christmas do at work, a little belated! Furthermore, M and I have bought a new bookshelf and tidied up the living room; and a new wardrobe for the boys' room (and tidied that up a bit as well!). So things are pretty much in place for when baby boy arrives, which of course makes me feel good too!
M is about to start a new work project with his friend which they've got high hopes for. I'm still a bit sceptical ( but then I'm rather over cautious anyway) but if this really takes off it will be fantastic in terms of (fiscal) rewards; and I know it would make M so much happier as it'd mean he could spend less time dealing with annoying clients...
All in all, there's a very positive vibe in the air! Now this just needs to continue, ha ha.
Baby boy is doing well too, he's bouncing around like crazy most days which is very reassuring. I passed the yucky diabetes test so I can continue cramming my face with chocolate at every opportunity (more good news!). Now that we have decided on a name, I am really looking forward to meeting him! Hard to believe I'm nearly 8 months now... Although I do expect the worst for the weeks immediately following birth, I somehow know I will cope better this time... After all, I've already done it once and survived!
Friday, 18 February 2011
Been a while!
So with astonishment I notice I haven't updated this blog in ages. I totally blame my new iPhone for this- I got it for Christmas and haven't really bothered to get my laptop out at home since. Lazy! But then I realised I could also blog from my phone so here we go :-)
It turns out my feeling was wrong- we're having another boy! I am beyond thrilled. Funnily enough, when we had the ultrasound and I saw him on the screen I "knew" it was a boy. Anyway he was well and healthy (I assume he still is!) and I'm so looking forward to having two boys.
Of course now there is also the renewed hope that M might at some point agree to a third! But I'll probably have to wait and see; bide my time and be patient and not mention it to him. That being said I have already decided that I want baby #3 to be born in August or September 2014, ha ha!
Other than that I'm absolutely shattered today. Not only because of preggo tiredness and the fact we had Teddy's childrens birthday party today (there will be another one on his actual birthday), but also because Teddy's teething again and the past two nights woke up 5-6 times. It's just like having a newborn again! Well I guess it's easier as he's easy to settle and I'm not up for more than 5 minutes each time; but disrupted sleep isn't really something that works well for me. I can't say I'm much looking forward to that part again! We were so lucky with Teddy as he slept for long stretches quite early on - what are the odds of that happening again?
So on this note I'll finish this post, no doubt I'll be in bed very soon hoping to catch some zzz before the first wake up call...
It turns out my feeling was wrong- we're having another boy! I am beyond thrilled. Funnily enough, when we had the ultrasound and I saw him on the screen I "knew" it was a boy. Anyway he was well and healthy (I assume he still is!) and I'm so looking forward to having two boys.
Of course now there is also the renewed hope that M might at some point agree to a third! But I'll probably have to wait and see; bide my time and be patient and not mention it to him. That being said I have already decided that I want baby #3 to be born in August or September 2014, ha ha!
Other than that I'm absolutely shattered today. Not only because of preggo tiredness and the fact we had Teddy's childrens birthday party today (there will be another one on his actual birthday), but also because Teddy's teething again and the past two nights woke up 5-6 times. It's just like having a newborn again! Well I guess it's easier as he's easy to settle and I'm not up for more than 5 minutes each time; but disrupted sleep isn't really something that works well for me. I can't say I'm much looking forward to that part again! We were so lucky with Teddy as he slept for long stretches quite early on - what are the odds of that happening again?
So on this note I'll finish this post, no doubt I'll be in bed very soon hoping to catch some zzz before the first wake up call...
Thursday, 30 December 2010
I've got a feeling...
... a feeling I can't hide, oh no!
-But let's skip the Beatles songs. I think I have mentioned before that I don't have a feeling - no gut instinct convincing me that this is a boy / girl.
Well, in a way I still don't have a feeling; or if I do I don't trust it. However, I have noticed that whenever I think of the baby I think of it as "she", as in "She's kicking a lot today", or "In X number of days we'll get to see her again", "Teddy's little sister". As soon as I think it it sort of catches me by surprise and I go "What? Who said it was a girl?" But I still keep doing it.
So as we have our big u/s tomorrow I guess I'll find out then if my unconscious mind was right! I am rather surprised that I think it's a girl, especially as I'm slightly hoping more for a boy. It's just this whole DH not wanting a third child business - I feel that if this one was a boy, at least I could have a shot at convincing him at some point (in the distant future...).
But oh well. In the end, it doesn't really matter, right? Above all I hope that this little one is healthy, growing ok and no other problems show up.
I'll also have my first appointment with the consultant afterwards so I'm quite excited about that too; though I've already been warned that most of my time will be spent in the waiting room!
-But let's skip the Beatles songs. I think I have mentioned before that I don't have a feeling - no gut instinct convincing me that this is a boy / girl.
Well, in a way I still don't have a feeling; or if I do I don't trust it. However, I have noticed that whenever I think of the baby I think of it as "she", as in "She's kicking a lot today", or "In X number of days we'll get to see her again", "Teddy's little sister". As soon as I think it it sort of catches me by surprise and I go "What? Who said it was a girl?" But I still keep doing it.
So as we have our big u/s tomorrow I guess I'll find out then if my unconscious mind was right! I am rather surprised that I think it's a girl, especially as I'm slightly hoping more for a boy. It's just this whole DH not wanting a third child business - I feel that if this one was a boy, at least I could have a shot at convincing him at some point (in the distant future...).
But oh well. In the end, it doesn't really matter, right? Above all I hope that this little one is healthy, growing ok and no other problems show up.
I'll also have my first appointment with the consultant afterwards so I'm quite excited about that too; though I've already been warned that most of my time will be spent in the waiting room!
Tuesday, 28 December 2010
Another year over, and a new one just about to begin...
Happy Christmas anda happy New Year, if anyone's reading!
2010 has been a funny year. There have been rough times, especially Molly's and my FIL's deaths. M and I had a minor crisis when it came to whether or not we'd have another child. We also had some financial difficulties - or rather, we had to work out what to do to avoid getting into financial difficulties. We tried, and failed, to buy a bigger house; and it's looking rather bleak on the housing market still.
On the plus side, we overcame our rough patch. We tried for another baby and got pregnant (although it did take longer than I would have liked). We are managing our money perfectly now and keep on saving month after month, and building up a nice little nest egg. The house that we live in is perfectly adequate for now and probably for another year still; and the forecast is that house prices will fall again next year.
Teddy has grown up so much. I mean, of course he has - he's a toddler and growing (and learning) like crazy. It's weird to think sometimes how much he can do now although I still consider him to be my baby; and how soon we'll have a "real" baby again and will have to start from scratch again. Yes, that does slightly scare me - not too keen on those first few weeks!
M has been fatastic this year. He helped me so much when Molly died; he finally came around regarding another baby; and he worked his socks off to provide for us all. I am truly thankful to have such a wonderful husband, although I do moan sometimes (a lot of the time?) that he doesn't do enough around the house. But you can't have everything, right? :)
So, I'm really looking forward to 2011. It can only get better! Teddy will become a big brother, and hopefully we'll find our dream house, and the rest is pretty much in place already! I feel blessed to have such a good life and let's face it, nothing really to complain about.
I hope 2011 will be a good year for everyone I know, in real life and online.
2010 has been a funny year. There have been rough times, especially Molly's and my FIL's deaths. M and I had a minor crisis when it came to whether or not we'd have another child. We also had some financial difficulties - or rather, we had to work out what to do to avoid getting into financial difficulties. We tried, and failed, to buy a bigger house; and it's looking rather bleak on the housing market still.
On the plus side, we overcame our rough patch. We tried for another baby and got pregnant (although it did take longer than I would have liked). We are managing our money perfectly now and keep on saving month after month, and building up a nice little nest egg. The house that we live in is perfectly adequate for now and probably for another year still; and the forecast is that house prices will fall again next year.
Teddy has grown up so much. I mean, of course he has - he's a toddler and growing (and learning) like crazy. It's weird to think sometimes how much he can do now although I still consider him to be my baby; and how soon we'll have a "real" baby again and will have to start from scratch again. Yes, that does slightly scare me - not too keen on those first few weeks!
M has been fatastic this year. He helped me so much when Molly died; he finally came around regarding another baby; and he worked his socks off to provide for us all. I am truly thankful to have such a wonderful husband, although I do moan sometimes (a lot of the time?) that he doesn't do enough around the house. But you can't have everything, right? :)
So, I'm really looking forward to 2011. It can only get better! Teddy will become a big brother, and hopefully we'll find our dream house, and the rest is pretty much in place already! I feel blessed to have such a good life and let's face it, nothing really to complain about.
I hope 2011 will be a good year for everyone I know, in real life and online.
Friday, 3 December 2010
Sick Baby
As I'd feared in my last post, Teddy has come down with a big, fat cold, just like me. Only his seems to be getting worse. He was coughing so much last night it woke him up, and even after I'd been in to settle him he was breathing so hard it sounded like Darth Vader in his last stages. Even though it was 3am, I was wide awake as I kept listening to him breathing, and started to panic when I couldn't hear him - all of a sudden I remembered that SIDS is always connected to the baby having breathing difficulties, e.g. by having a cold... and yes, I know that he's old enough now really and that he would wake up if he really couldn't breathe anymore. But that still doesn't help when you worry your head off in the middle of the night.
So the next time he woke up I took him into our bed. M wasn't happy about this at all, but tough! I won't have my sick baby alone in his own bed when he's feeling so poorly. Of course, having Teddy in the bed meant that now I could physically not sleep anymore - first he shuffled into position as close to me as possible, so my head was half off the pillow and I was breathing in his hair. Then he started kicking his way around; and finally ended up snuggled up on top of the duvet, across my legs. Which meant at least I could breathe again, but I was fairly stuck and couldn't move my legs...
So it came as a bit of a surprise that we all overslept this morning! I'm currently working Friday mornings as well (just until the end of December) so today was one of those days where we really HAVE to get up at 6.30 to get ready for work and to get Teddy to nursery. Well, M woke up at 7.30 and we just rushed through the motions. I was only 10 minutes late at work, but now I feel all sleepy-headed and not quite there - I do need my time to get ready in the mornings!
I'll take Teddy to see the Dr this afternoon, just to rule out a chest infection. Generally it's all a bit easier now when Teddy is ill, as he can communicate his needs so much better. For example, last night after his bath he pointed to the Calpol bottle (baby paracetamol) and said, "Teddy med-zen!". I wasn't going to give him any, as he seemed ok to me, but I still asked him if he needed to take his medicine. Teddy's reply was: "Yes! Teddy med-zen, good boy! Okay?" So he happily took his half spoon of Calpol without fussing (it used to cause him to vomit, which I think was always more a psychological thing than something physical).
Oh well, at least if we have it now, we'll be alright for Christmas! Let's just hope that M won't catch it off us now...
So the next time he woke up I took him into our bed. M wasn't happy about this at all, but tough! I won't have my sick baby alone in his own bed when he's feeling so poorly. Of course, having Teddy in the bed meant that now I could physically not sleep anymore - first he shuffled into position as close to me as possible, so my head was half off the pillow and I was breathing in his hair. Then he started kicking his way around; and finally ended up snuggled up on top of the duvet, across my legs. Which meant at least I could breathe again, but I was fairly stuck and couldn't move my legs...
So it came as a bit of a surprise that we all overslept this morning! I'm currently working Friday mornings as well (just until the end of December) so today was one of those days where we really HAVE to get up at 6.30 to get ready for work and to get Teddy to nursery. Well, M woke up at 7.30 and we just rushed through the motions. I was only 10 minutes late at work, but now I feel all sleepy-headed and not quite there - I do need my time to get ready in the mornings!
I'll take Teddy to see the Dr this afternoon, just to rule out a chest infection. Generally it's all a bit easier now when Teddy is ill, as he can communicate his needs so much better. For example, last night after his bath he pointed to the Calpol bottle (baby paracetamol) and said, "Teddy med-zen!". I wasn't going to give him any, as he seemed ok to me, but I still asked him if he needed to take his medicine. Teddy's reply was: "Yes! Teddy med-zen, good boy! Okay?" So he happily took his half spoon of Calpol without fussing (it used to cause him to vomit, which I think was always more a psychological thing than something physical).
Oh well, at least if we have it now, we'll be alright for Christmas! Let's just hope that M won't catch it off us now...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)